The Fangirl
by T.D Rayne
Summary: "There is a strange woman in my room." Splinter has an unusual encounter, and he's confused. Perhaps Michelangelo could give some clarity?


"There is a strange woman in my room."

Michelangelo looked round from his place on his bean-bag chair, away from the images of cheesily animated, animatronic monsters stomping down Tokyo. His father, looking unusually tense with squared shoulders and paled knuckles upon his jade walking stick, stood just behind him. Out of his ingrained respect, Michelangelo immediately hit the pause button on the remote several times - for it was old, home-made and did not work otherwise - and adjusted himself to face him.

"Uh - what?"

"A woman I do not know has somehow slipped into my room without my knowledge or consent." Splinter now looked at his son with a familiar intensity and scrutiny. It was the look he never failed to wear if he suspected he'd caught him in a lie or some other form of wrong-doing. "Not someone you know, I hope."

"There's - there's a _girl_ in your room?" Michelangelo actually shot up from his seat, grinning from ear to ear. "Like, a _girl_ girl? Other than April?" He then leaned sideways to look past Splinter at the adjacent door through which he knew his father's room was located. In which there was an _actual girl _with lady parts and other lady things waiting. "Can I go and - ?"

"I would rather you not; not until _I _have decided how best to deal with her, anyhow," Splinter said, raising his voice above Michelangelo's excited rambling and narrowing his eyes at him. "She claims to be my 'fan girl'. I am not certain of the meaning of this."

"Uh-huh," Michelangelo said, nodding absently with his gaze still locked in a world beyond his troubled father. A world in which hormones were his sole authority and there existed a girl who was probably - maybe - quite pretty and perhaps very lonely. Lonely enough to accept a freaky mutant's cheesy flirting.

Splinter frowned deeply and curtly knocked his cane several times on the floor. "_I assumed_," this was said with an edge of irritation before he resumed his usual, even tone, "that she meant to say that she was in possession of a _tessen_. I had asked to see it - I had found myself at a loss for words otherwise - but then she only looked at me as if I were insane." His ears dropped, and he glanced back at the sliding door from which he had come. "She seemed about your age. I'd hoped that perhaps you...?"

These words - and the skip of his heart at the sound of the cane on the floor - swiftly caught Michelangelo's attention. He looked at him silently for a time, trying not to grin and biting of the lower half of his beak in repression of laughter. "No - no, father, that's not - what she meant was that she's a fan. Of you."

Splinter's expression did not change. His big ears twitched.

"You know, like..." Michelangelo snapped his fingers in rapid succession as he racked his brain for a definition his aged father would understand. "She likes you. She's totally been oogling and liking you from afar and stuff and likes your moves. She's warm for your form. Or something like that."

Now his father looked perturbed. " 'Oogling' me...from afar? Beneath my notice?" The fur upon his neck actually bristled up slightly. "How is this possible?"

"Dunno! Maybe she has some kinda secret set of ninja-dodging skills or something." Michelangelo looked as well, and his blue eyes glittered with the testosterone-induced excitement as he once again thought of girls. "So, she's still in there, right?"

Splinter's ears fell flat against his head; suddenly Godzilla, frozen mid-stomp behind a fizzing television screen, seemed far more interesting. "I...do not know. I left her when she asked me to remove some of my clothing."

The young turtle's head snapped back to look at him. His face scrunched oddly as he tried to decide whether he should look horrified or fall to the floor and laugh until he turned his own throat inside-out. "She - she _what_?"

This time, Splinter did not answer or even look at his son; he only stared more intensely at the poorly aged image on the screen, stone-faced.

"I - it's okay, Sensei," Michelangelo sputtered through ill-repressed giggles, "I'll just - get Raph or April scare her away, or - or -! " he doubled over, clutching his lower plastron. "Hee hee, she really -?"

Splinter shut his eyes and resolved to - and not for the first time in his oddity of a family life - ponder the enigma that was the mind of teenagers. This did little to drown out the sound of Michelangelo as his muzzled chuckling burst into a fit of mirthful, out-of-control howling.

But surely it was the best preparation he could muster for the serious nerve-pinching he would have to deal to a random and very sexually confused teenage girl. And, perhaps, he added with the slightest note of poor-sporting, for the one he might find it appropriate to give to his hyena of a son as well.

* * *

**...**

**Loosely inspired by the many odd asks given to my favorite Splinter roleplayer on Tumblr. **


End file.
